


My Darling

by Miss_Lv



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Begging, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dominance, Feral Behavior, Knotting, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Pseudo-Incest, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23647441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Lv/pseuds/Miss_Lv
Summary: Percival is a possessive hellhound who raises the sweet orphan faun, Newt, within his pack.
Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander
Comments: 34
Kudos: 1421





	My Darling

**Author's Note:**

> Percival is a growl and Newt is a fluff, they have the sex. That is all there is to this.

Percival worked the night through. 

As one as old as him, he was afforded more leeway with work but he preferred to set an example to the younger generations. He hunted the darkest of souls now, the slippery kind that reek of evil and have sweet promises on their tongues. The kind that have sinned enough and so deeply that they have power in their own right, that they must be properly defeated before he could drag them and deliver them to Hell’s gates. 

It spoke to the state of the world that there were as many as there are. Percival was one of the old ones, among a dozen or so others of equal strength. As the centuries have passed and they have not fallen in their work, they’ve grown more powerful. With each soul they drag to Hell and each season that passes, power swells within them. Percival was marked with scars from his early years but rarely received any these days. He knew how souls were, desperately fighting to escape their punishments. He hunted them precisely and knew what to expect. His work was precise and he did it with the same commitment he had when he was first born for it. 

There was something soothing about it, the consistency of it. His life changed through the centuries but his work had always been the same.

Percival was a hellhound that hunted the damned and delivered them to Hell. 

There were many creatures throughout the world, born with magic and tasks given at their creation. Dragons, phoenix, unicorns, griffons, krakens, and mers. Over the ages, Percival had run across them at some point. Some creatures were more polite than others, some were terrified of him. It’s a common misconception that because Percival was a hellhound, he was inherently evil.

He supposed he was more used to certain aspects of his work, dragging begging souls, visiting Hell each night. But he wasn’t like the souls he hunted, never killed for pleasure or inflicted pain to feel joy. 

If anything, his free time was rather mundane. 

Percival lived as a human, as all magical creatures that could, did. 

Humans had luxury figured out in a way no other beast ever had. The sheer amount of decadence and ease they had in their lives was staggering. 

So Percival wore a human form in his downtime and lived in a large estate house on an acre of forestry, isolated from the rest of humanity. Percival enjoyed the comforts of humanity but he had no real interest in being around them. He kept no human staff in the house and had his land warded to keep them off of it. 

His house was large enough to accommodate himself and his pups as they came and went. It looked large as he approached it but nothing over the top, not a flaunting of wealth. He padded from the woods that hid the rocky cliffs that led down to his Hell gate. Only Percival and his blood could use it and one of his pups always kept watch over it. One of his older sons was there as he passed, looking like a normal black wolf. Percival nodded his head and he returned it politely.

The sun was rising, the first light began to shine in the sky, signalling Percival’s downtime. When the sun lit the day Percival was at rest. 

He trotted to the house in his hellhound form, a massive oversized canine with monstrous aspects. Glowing red eyes that could see souls, long black horns that curved into sharp tips for fighting, and finally his fur was night black with a smokey aspect to it. 

Like a slow-moving fog of pitch black, Percival could move swiftly when needed, able to outrun any other creature in the world. No one could ever run from a hellhound. 

Percival smirked at the thought as his monster form shifted in black smoke, reshaping into an older human man, distinguished and proper as he reached the landing of the house. Percival adjusted the cuff of the shirt he was wearing. Crisp cotton with onyx cufflinks. He liked wearing suits, properly tailored to his form. The current fashion style suited him very well he thought. 

The entrance to the ground level backyard was a row of glass doors that let in maximum light. Two sets were thrown open already on the warm morning to let fresh air in. It was one of the things Percival never understood about humans, staying in sealed boxes with no airflow. How could they scent something approaching them or hear it off in the distance? He supposed he would never understand them, letting their crucial senses dull as they did. 

Percival’s household was already up and about, his children coming home from their own night of work. Of the eight litters Percival had raised over the centuries, only seven of the sixty-three pups remained in his house. Hellhounds were not typically pack animals, many preferred to live in isolation. But Percival had always found his parental instincts strong and never minded his pups in his home. He wouldn’t have been able to stand their mothers, however, and the idea of some strange hellhound coming into his territory made him want to snarl. 

Only his young were allowed. 

“Morning papa,” Newt greeted him, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he yawned sweetly. Newt was tiny compared to Credence who was at his side helping him cook a breakfast/bedtime meal for the household. Newt was up on a stool with a darling apron on and flipping eggs, piling dozens onto a plate as Credence minded the bacon and sausages. Eggs were boiling in water as well and piles of toast were already buttered. 

“Looks delicious,” he greeted them both and walked by to drop a kiss to Newt’s curls and brush shoulders with Credence affectionately. Tina and Queenie came in as well, shaking off the lingering smoke of their true forms. Leta, Nagani, Yusuf, and Vinda, would be along shortly as well. Of his pups, Percival trusted only Credence and Leta with Newt’s care. It was to be expected however, hellhounds and prey creatures never mixed well. 

Percival currently had seven strong hellhound children and one soft little adopted faun. His pups were all predators by nature but Newt was the sweetest sort of prey. All petite and soft, sweet and wide-eyed, Percival understood the hunger in his children. He was much older than them and had better control of his base instincts. 

Newt had been a tiny thing that Credence had brought home. His little leg injured and his parents very much dead from the rest of the litter Credence was raised with. It had shown uniqueness in Credence that he hadn’t just eaten the baby faun but instead hid him in his bedroom until Percival found out. By then the little thing was bonded to Credence and Percival wasn’t a cruel father. So he accepted the faun and enforced that his pups leave Newt be. Some had left the house shortly after, too tempted by the trembling little faun in their midst. Others were endeared to Newt. Tina and Queenie had adored Newt, doting on him as much as Credence and Leta had. Nagani, Yusuf, and Vinda tolerated Newt in their own ways and were gentle enough with him that Percival didn’t worry about it. 

He got used to the little thing greeting them when they arrived home. Newt always overjoyed to see them all, hugging and snuggling with whoever would let him. He was adorable, with his long deer ears and cute little hooves. Curly copper hair with freckles on his skin and white spots on his fur. A darling little thing. 

So, of course, he was a demon under those pretty eyes. 

Percival’s children understood pack order. They knew that this was Percival’s home and they were welcome to stay as long as they obeyed him. Should they choose to go against that they would find a swift punishment and be thrown out. Percival had never killed one of his own young but he had laid down proper beatings when they were needed. Hellhounds were vicious by nature.

Percival had his pups in his home because he raised them. Female hellhounds would mate with a male and stay until the pups were born. Once they were, she would leave and never look back. 

On the wall of the main living area were seven sets of pictures. The top framed photo was Percival and the females who had chosen him. Under that were single pictures of all the pups they had. Some had died over the years, souls could be dangerous and other hellhounds often fought one another over the honour of dragging the dead to hell. Percival was too old and powerful to have to deal with infighting anymore but his pups did so on a daily basis. 

But when they came home they understood it was Percival’s house, always. 

Newt however, had no such instincts. 

He liked to chew on the plants Percival grew in the windows as a young boy. Tipping the pots over to play in the dirt. He found it fun to get into the ink pots and colour along the walls in sweeping marks, to climb up the fireplace and then wander the house getting ash everywhere. 

He was a menace. 

And each time Percival came home, Newt greeted him excitedly, wanting to show him his new pictures or what he had done all evening. Never once intentionally ruining something out of spite or anger. 

Hellhounds thrived on rage and destruction, ripping into still fighting prey. 

Newt was nothing like that. 

He never had been and never would be. 

They set the table as the family came in, light talk of their work as they took a seat and began to devour the feast. It was enough to feed dozens and dozens of humans but hellhounds ate far more than they did. Meat being favoured always. Most of the greens in the garden they kept were for Newt. Percival didn’t mind them on occasion as well, a chance for variety. 

“How’s your arm?” Percival asked Yusuf and the man showed his forearm off. The large gash from last night already healed over well. There was a row of stitches along it, Newt’s work. Grown hellhounds couldn’t trust one another, even family. Credence had always been a special case, Leta as well, gentle souls. They hunted well however and that’s what mattered. They did their work and their free time was their own. But when it came to injuries, the instinct to hole up and hide was strong. Newt was the only one in the house who could go into their rooms, nothing about him threatening. He could help wash and stitch up wounds without being bitten. Newt had taken to it as well, looking after his pack as best as he could. Doing all the cooking and healing as he grew into his maturity. Even as a grown faun of proper age, he was so small compared to them. Slender and soft, Percival could snap his wrist with barely any real effort if he wanted. They all could and they all knew to be careful. 

Yusuf was the only one injured recently and no one offered any new injuries, though they usually would hide them and Newt would tell Percival later. Even now, the faun abandoned his plate and went to check Yusuf’s arm more closely, making sure it was clear of infection before he was satisfied. Yusuf leaned over Newt, puffing out a breath that moved the copper hair as he took a deep breath of that faun scent. 

Percival paused in eating to snarl once, sharp and warning. 

Yusuf sat straighter, pulling away from the faun. Newt blinked up and left his side, coming back around the table to Percival’s side where he always ate. When he was within reach, Percival took hold of his slim waist and tugged him to his knee. Newt accepted it without complaint, smiling easily as he pulled his plate over and settled in Percival’s lap to eat. 

They had raised a faun without trouble, reflecting how well Percival’s pups kept their control. 

But when Newt had come into his sexual maturity, it had been a mess. Percival having to reassert his dominance daily and fighting his pups into submission. Newt crying all the time, wishing he wasn’t causing any trouble at all. 

Only Credence and Leta hadn’t tried to fuck Newt. They wanted to, of course, lust was far too base a hunger for a hellhound not to feel. But they lacked that cutthroat instinct in them. They accepted Percival’s dominance and viewed Newt as someone who was off-limits sexually. More so, they were content at that, not wanting sex from Newt, happy to have his platonic affection and snuggling. 

Tina and Queenie, Percival had expected something along the same lines but instead, they had paired up to try to sneak time with Newt. Luring him to their rooms and pinning down the poor faun. Licking him all over and stirring him up with a confused lust. Poor little faun, all hazy eyed and trembling. Percival had nearly been forced to throw them out. They were from the same litter and were very close, ever whispering to one another. Percival adored his daughters but he would never trust them with Newt, knowing they would pounce the second they could. But he was proud of their cunning. 

Nagani was close with Credence but not the same litter. She had been able to slip passed him multiple times and had nearly had her way with Newt. Leta being the one to catch her or alert Percival. Newt always ran straight to him when he appeared, trembling as he clung tightly to Percival for comfort. 

Yusuf and Vinda had less intention but they would have Newt if the opportunity ever presented itself. 

The main issue with it all, wasn’t just that Percival had no intention of seeing the darling faun turned into a family slut either. No, the real danger was that hellhounds were vicious in all things. It was very unlikely that any of his children could mate with Newt and not kill him in the process. He was prey and they were predators, sex was a time when base urges took over and the instinct to rip out the prey’s throat would be too much for them. Over the centuries, Percival had managed to mate seven hellhound females and had the scars from each union. He couldn’t imagine sweet Newt taking such a violent act. 

No, he was far too soft for that. 

Percival ate his food quickly and then set about grooming Newt. Running his hands through those silky curls as he nuzzled Newt’s neck and began to lazily lick at the salty skin. Newt tipped his neck to give him more room to work without thinking. Eating his own meal more slowly and talking with his siblings as Percival licked at his deer ear and then his cheek, running his tongue up the creamy skin as he undid Newt’s shirt a bit so he could groom his shoulder. His hands ran up Newt’s thighs idly, pulling up the skirt so he could run his bare hands along the fur of Newt’s thighs and scent mark him there as well. 

It was important to show his family, the affection he felt for Newt as the head of the pack. That Newt belonged to Percival and he was endeared to him. He would not tolerate them acting against that. This was his home and this was his faun. 

Newt was Percival's. 

Once the meal was done the family broke apart to go spend their days as they pleased. With the morning sun rising up, Percival followed Newt out to help him mind the garden. The greenery looked ever the same to him and Percival could never tell if a plant was wilting from too much sun or not enough. His house plants had suffered as well. 

Percival was bad at it, hence why he kept them. 

After so many years alive, one could grow bored with the world. They could start to think themselves above it all and grow arrogant. Most of the older hellhounds had lost their minds in this way. They had stopped working and then became something different. Demons of sorts, the kind that was hunted down by the unicorns. It was important to keep oneself grounded. 

So Percival did gardening. 

Newt was naturally talented at it. Percival’s house plants had never looked so good as when Newt had started caring for them. 

“This is dry, feel it,” the little faun explained and Percival obediently felt the plant, the brown withered tip indeed dried out and not slimy like some could be. 

“That’s how we know it needs more water,” Newt explained cheerfully.

“I see,” Percival replied, trying to actually recall this so he could improve on his gardening skills. 

From far off, a mile or so, he heard the snap of a twig. Heavy, something large, no noise before and not followed by any other sounds. It was done intentionally to warn Percival. 

The air was still, but when he searched, he could pick up on the heavy scent of a strange hellhound. 

“Go fetch the eggs,” he told Newt who blinked up. It was a misconception that prey creatures had no sense. Newt’s ears twitched as he located what Percival had heard. His little nose snuffling as he caught the same scents. Newt nodded his head and took the watering can back to the little shed. The chickens were kept against the house in a large fenced in coop. They had accepted their life being near danger fairly well but they would always panic if a hellhound got too close to them. So Newt was the only one who could collect their eggs without making the dumb things flap and scream. 

Percival walked to the edge of the garden and waited. The house was in the centre of the trees, surrounded but with half a mile cleared away so nothing could sneak up. 

Newt gathered the eggs calmly, Percival could hear him talking to the chickens. They all had names and he would praise them for laying so well. Nonsense chatter that Percival never minded from Newt. Despite the words, his scent was cautious, alert. Newt would bolt into the house at a moment’s notice. 

Raised there from a babe, Newt had never been anywhere else. He had met and made friends with creatures of the forest, but never anything sentient and never without a hellhound at his side. Newt was cunning and very clever, he knew this world was a dangerous and deadly one. 

A hellhound in human form appeared at the tree line. Female with a fertile scent. 

Percival could feel his cock stir in reaction. 

His children were all alert as well. Coming from the house to present a united front. With this many hellhounds, nothing had ever tried to take their territory from them. 

“How may I help you?” Percival asked the female calmly. She wasn’t known to him. A female of age with maybe a century behind her. 

She smiled at him, teeth flashing. Humans saw it as a gesture of friendship and hellhounds a threat. Newt finished his task and made his way to the house, walking among his siblings before he slowed and stopped to watch as well. 

Ever a curious thing. 

Percival sighed, wishing Newt was more docile and willing to go hide. 

“What do you want?” Percival asked again with less ease, annoyed now. His pups were strong in their own right, powerful. Newt was the one in danger and he did seem to love being in perilous situations he could easily avoid. 

“I was just curious,” the female finally spoke, voice low and husky, designed to lure. “You’re a known name Graves, a powerful male who has raised powerful litters.”

Percival tipped his head at her in consideration. 

He had been thinking of breeding soon. Newt would like it, having puppies in the house. Credence had been near maturity when he found Newt and was the youngest of Percival’s children. Newt liked finding all sorts of creatures to baby in the forest, the farm itself was more for Newt than their actual need for the animals. It wasn’t hard to drop into human areas and pick up some milk. But it gave Newt something to do and so Percival didn’t mind the growing farm around him. 

Newt would like having puppies to raise and Percival was very curious to how hellhound children would grow with a faun as a sibling and caregiver. 

But this female was young for Percival, weak yet. 

He had no interest in her. 

Percival stepped back, turning his head to signal he was disinterested. He looked back to his children. Credence had never bred or showed interest in it. Yusuf had sired a few but never kept any. All of his daughters had bred when the time came upon them but females never kept the pups. 

Yusuf turned his head away, signalling that he didn’t want her either. Credence copied the motion and Percival turned back to the female. To look away was a slight. Letting her know he didn’t see her as enough of a threat to watch. 

She looked annoyed with him and Percival offered her a sharp grin of his own. His teeth flashing to let her know he would kill her without hesitation. Her scent wasn’t calling to him as strongly as she had hoped it would. 

“Go now,” he told her and turned to walk back to the house. All of his daughters waited for a beat before taking chase. Their instinct to drive the female off their territory too strong to just let her leave. She would go running away from them or be too slow and die. Vinda was especially bloodthirsty. When Tina and Queenie hunted together they rarely failed and when all five daughters worked in a unit, they always succeeded. If the female was fast she might leave their lands before they caught her but if they decided to chase her down anyway then she would die. It was rather rude to come into a hellhound’s territory.

Yusuf watched them all go and then peered at Percival. 

“Would you have me mate more, father?”

Percival offered his son a mild look. 

“I don’t particularly care. You do your work well each night and that fills me with pride,” he explained and his son puffed up with the praise. “What you do in your own time is your choice. If you wish to breed then do so.”

His son nodded his head. While most hellhounds would never allow another’s pups in their homes, Percival was very old and well-tempered. He could push back that vicious base animal call and remind himself that they were his grandchildren. So when Yusuf bred and brought the litters home, Percival had tolerated them. Even now he would. But it seemed almost unspoken that Percival would bring home the first litter for Newt to raise. 

“And me?” Credence asked as they went into the house. Newt was cleaning the eggs and putting them away. 

“You’ve no hunger for it. Which is fine. You cannot carry a hellhound litter but one day I expect you might come home, bred by some creature.” Percival noted easily, watching his youngest pup go red in the face. It was no secret to Percival that Credence sought out other males and that he preferred to be the submissive partner in their unions. Nor was it a secret that he had recently taken an interest in other creatures and not just hellhounds alone. 

Newt, of course, was Percival’s main source. All the children confided in Newt in one way or another. Some of them not really seeing the depth that Newt could read them with a single look. That he could smell scents just as sharply as they could, that his keen gaze noted grass stains and drops of blood just as well as they could. 

Darling faun. 

Percival went over to him, Newt up on his stool to reach the counters with ease. Percival had offered to make a second kitchen more to suit Newt but he preferred the stool. Not wanting to be away from them all in his own area. Herd mentality. 

He dropped a kiss in Newt’s hair and then rubbed his face in the fluffy curls. 

“Papa,” Newt huffed affectionately, pushing his slight weight back against Percival’s own bulk. 

“Are you done?” Percival asked him and Newt finished setting the last eggs away before nodding. 

“I need to do the dishes,” he added after a moment. 

“Credence and Yusuf can mind them,” Percival commanded easily. He disliked it when the pups treated Newt too much like a servant. Newt never doing anything to stop the behaviour because he was happy to help them, always one to please others. 

Sweeping the faun up, Percival carried Newt bridal style from the kitchens and living area. Down the cool dark halls of the bedrooms. Each room was private and sealed with magic to keep others out. Percival could overpower the wards if he needed but he trusted his children. The only time he had ever needed to barge in was when Newt had first matured and been lured into them. 

“Did she stir you up papa?” Newt asked sweetly, pressing his face into Percival’s shoulder and scenting at him. 

“No. She was fertile but it didn’t call to me. They never do these days.”

“How come?” Newt did love to hear it. 

Percival growled lightly in playful scolding as he leaned down to nip at one of Newt’s ears lightly. 

“Because I have a pretty little darling to fuck whenever I want,” he told Newt as they reached his bedroom door. It was heavily warded in a way that his family could never break. That even after Percival was long dead, it would remain. Only Percival and Newt could enter. 

“Are you hungry for it?” Percival teased lightly and Newt squirmed in his hold. A faun was always eager for it. Percival had long learnt that Newt’s sex drive was high, but also that he was easy to satisfy with his fingers or tongue. Fucking Newt was saved for a long session when they had the time and knotting him was a treat for them both that occurred only a few times a month. 

He set Newt down on their shared bed, undoing his cute little shirt, the buttons popping and revealing a little strap dress under it. Newt usually wore dresses since pants needed to be altered to fit his unique faun legs. The smooth skin melting into silky fur down his thighs and his calves were not even remotely human as they became little hooves like a deer's. Delicate and so thin, Percival feared he might snap them if he grabbed too roughly. Newt had a tendency to wander the woods in the day and rip and stain his clothing. Skirts were easier to replace than pants so he typically wore them. More so, he liked to tease Percival, that it would be so easy to fuck Newt when he wanted too. 

Little tease. 

Percival pulled the dress off, exposing every inch of Newt to his eyes as his mouth watered. His faun didn’t shy away from his gaze either, he had never been taught modesty. So he sat there calmly, smiling sweetly as Percival took his fill. His creamy pale skin, so smooth and soft. His freckles like a splattering of blood across his chest. His rosy pink nipples all plumped up already. His thighs were parted to show off the soft curls his cock rested within, that bled into his fur-covered thighs. His cock more of a clit than anything else, so tiny and cute. Percival had read that fauns could adjust as needed. That if Newt was to fuck more his cock would fill out. But the faun had always preferred being fucked, wanting to be filled up rather than filling someone. 

Percival reached out, cupping Newt’s cock lightly and rubbing at it. Watching how the faun flushed red and bit at his lower lip so deliciously. Hips rolling a bit at the friction as Percival lazily rubbed at him.

It was far too easy to snatch Newt up without warning. Picking him up so Percival sat on the bed, back against the pillows as he kicked off his shoes and settled Newt onto his lap facing him. 

“Did you rub off last night?”

They had been working on it, getting Newt to be able to self please himself. The needy thing was so stubborn though. 

Newt pouted and shook his head in negative. He shifted so his legs fell to either side of Percival’s one thigh, straddling it and rubbing down. 

“It’s not the same, not good,” Newt complained as he rode Percvial’s thigh lazily. His little cocklet already dripping eagerly. 

“I spoiled you too much, when you matured,” Percival mused. When Newt had come of age and his body and mind were old enough to be ready for sex, Percival had been the one to take him. None of his children would have been able to without scarring Newt’s pale throat up. Only Percival could lean in and lick a line up it. 

He did so, Newt tipping his head back obediently as Percvial parted his lips and ran his fangs along the delicate skin. It would be so easy to bite down, to tear the flesh open. Newt shivered, giving a sweet little moan as Percival lapped at his throat and felt Newt swallow. 

He reached out and pushed two fingers into Newt’s mouth. Passed those pretty red lips and into that wet hot mouth. He ran his fingertips along Newt’s teeth, all dulled little things. With a human-like set of canines. Pathetic and blunted. The lips closed and Newt sucked at the fingers in his mouth, tongue rubbing along the digits. 

Percival rumbled in approval as Newt’s fingers closed over his wrist and the faun set about seducing Percival by sucking his fingers. Even Newt’s grip was light and delicate, easy to be broken if need be. 

Hellhounds preferred power and strength in a mate, they wanted someone worth breeding. But this wasn’t about breeding at all. This was all about pleasure and how good Percival could feel. About how delicate Newt was and how easy it would be to break him. When that thought had turned from something worrying to something that actively excited him, Percival wasn’t sure. But there was little these days that he didn’t admire in the faun. 

Newt parted his lips to swirl his tongue over Percival’s knuckles, he could jam his finger down that petite throat and Newt would take it. The very idea making Percival harder. 

He pulled his fingers free and picked Newt up by the waist, not minding the slick fingers and he manhandled the faun. Newt never fought, going as Percival wanted him to. He turned the faun over and up, presenting Percival’s face with his gorgeous ass and pushing Newt’s face against Percival’s cock in his pants. His hand pulled Newt’s thighs apart, resting them on Percival’s shoulders as he sat back a bit more. The weight of the faun was nothing and Percival was comfortable as he began to lick at those silky thighs. Newt trembling in answer even as he rubbed his face against Percival’s cock. Nimble little fingers already working at his belt and zipper to get it out. 

“Will you fuck me today papa? It’s been so long since you knotted me,” Newt sighed out, cool fingers easing Percival’s cock from his clothing, exposing it to the cool air. A wet tongue licking up the side of it lovingly. 

Percival rumbled in answer and lapped at Newt’s thighs more, working his way up as he reached with his hands to pull those cute ass cheeks apart. Newt’s little deer tail was flagging high, raised up and very ready to take a mate. 

Newt was rubbing his face along the length of Percival’s cock, licking at it as it passed along his lips, pushing his nose against it and inhaling the scent. Percival could feel it all, every little breathy sigh and nuzzle. He could hear the wet little smack of Newt’s kisses and his warm tongue rasping along the tip to catch the precum there, greedy for it as he suckled at the tip and his long fingers curled around the base to try and work more out.

There was something animalistic and satisfying about eating Newt out. The taste and the scent of his little boy cunt always delicious. Percival pushed his face between those plump thighs and rubbed his face against all the sweet skin, marking it as his own. His nose nudged at the faun’s little balls and he took them into his mouth for a little suckle before moving upward a bit. Licking at the silky fine fur until it gave way to that pucker of flesh. That rim all tight as if it had never stretched out wide enough to take a knot. Percival pressed a lazy kiss there, lapping idly and feeling Newt shudder each time. He was doing wonderful things with his mouth, licking at Percival’s cock and his hands worked the length, pushing his pretty mouth wide and down. It felt good but Percival was a master of this game. He reached to part Newt’s cheeks a bit more and pulled away, letting the air on to the little pink asshole. Watching as it moved, trembling under the need for attention. Feeling fond he didn’t make the boy beg today. Leaning in to lap over it again and press his tongue at the rim. Slowly working it inside the faun. Feeling the quivering muscle try to relax to let him in. 

Percival took pity on him, reaching his fingers in, digging them to ease two in and open the faun up. Newt dropped Percival’s cock from his mouth as he gasped out, his little tail wiggling cutely. 

“Papa,” he moaned out, hands clutching at Percival’s thighs. 

He took his time working his tongue into the faun. Tasting the slick there. Fauns were wonders, always ready in every way for sex. Newt was no different already slick soaked. Percival pushing his face in shamelessly as he sucked at it, licking it and swallowing it. He always wanted everything he could take from Newt. 

He could feel the thighs on either side of his head trembling as he ate Newt out. Fingers prying at that pink opening so he could push his tongue in deeper. Some nights he took his true form and ate Newt out for hours, making him come and come. His snout and long tongue perfect for reaching all the deep places inside the faun. 

He was moaning out loudly now, always so noisy, his Newt. Gasping and moaning as he rocked back on Percival’s face without any shame. Wet sounds as Percival lapped and tongue fucked his hole. 

“Papa, papa, I can’t,” Newt gasped out and Percival moved a hand to cup Newt’s little cocklet, rubbing it as Newt shivered and came with little uh-uh sounds. 

Once he spilled the little thing went lax, relaxing against Percival. He lapped a few more times, getting the gush of slick that came with a climax before he let Newt slide down his body. The petite faun curling up across his lap on his side. Panting a bit from his release. 

A handful of seed was in Percival’s palm, not even enough to overflow it. Adorable really, Percival licked it up, tasting the faint salt that reminded him a bit of blood. He licked it all up and then reached to finger Newt a bit and gather that slick to devour as well. Newt watching him. 

“Do I taste good?” he asked softly and Percival smirked down at him. 

“Perfect, all sweet and eager, I can taste your lust,” Percival explained, picking up Newt easily and shifting them so they were lying across the bed, Percival on his back with Newt laying on top of him, chest to chest. 

“Is it better than that female?” Newt asked, a hint of a pout about him. 

Percival laughed, smirking as he cupped Newt’s face and brought it close so he could lick at him, along his face and then chin and jawline, nuzzling into the soft hair and nipping at Newt’s twitching deer ear. He worked his way back to Newt’s mouth and he let his lips go slack obediently. Letting Percival lick inside his mouth. Nothing overly sexual so much as a claim. Running his tongue over Newt’s flat teeth and the roof of his mouth, angling his head to lap deeper. It was easier to do in his wolf form. 

“Sex with hellhounds isn’t good. It’s about breeding and not getting killed,” Percival explained, he had many times but Newt loved to hear it and Percival didn’t mind coddling him. 

“Sex with you is all about pleasure,” he rumbled. Newt wasn’t a predator. He didn’t get Percival’s hackles up as a predator would. He wasn’t lying either. Sex with a female hellhound was always dangerous and Percival was always on guard, watching his throat as he rushed to knot and spill his seed and then get away cleanly. He would never have one in his bed like this, laying out across him. 

“Sweet boy, all mine,” Percival teased lightly and Newt smiled, pleased to hear it. He sat back and up, straddling Percival’s waist. 

“Can we?” Newt asked, pushing back on Percival’s cock. It was still hanging out of his pants and hard. 

He hums out, as if he hasn’t decided yet to tease the faun. Reaching out with both hands to run along Newt’s body. One hand at his neck and down the knobs of his spine as the other works up from his knee to the curve of his ass far slower.

“You’re a hungry thing tonight?”

Newt nodded his head eagerly pushing his ass back, rubbing along Percival’s cock. He could feel the little tail flagging, twitching and brushing the head of Percival’s cock. 

“Please daddy,” Newt breathed, eyes half-closed as Percival’s hand reached his ass and cupped either cheek, squeezing and kneading the plump flesh. 

“I thought you were too old for daddy,” Percival muttered, enjoying the feel of that perfect ass in his hands. Newt’s got a fine one too. Long faun legs that rise up to a perfect curve. Soft and inviting, just begging to be fucked. 

“Daddy,” Newt whined out. When he was entering his adolescent years, Newt had stopped calling Percival daddy, deeming himself too old for baby names. For some reason, he thought papa was more mature and settled on it. But when they were alone like this, he always backslid. 

“Do you want daddy to eat your cunt some more, suck your little boy clit off?”

Newtook his head, pushing back more on Percival’s cock. It was easy to lift him off with Percival’s hands. He didn’t have to really try at all, Newt so slight and delicate. 

“You wanna open up for daddy’s cock?”

Newt nodded his head eagerly, peering down at Percival with such hazy lust in his gaze. Percival always felt so fond of his little faun when Newt got worked up. 

“Want daddy to fuck me,” Newt breathed. “Want you to, to, push your big knot up into me, give me a belly f-full of seed daddy.” He looked so sweet and innocent as he requested it. Percival knew that innocence was faked but it still made his cock throb all the same. 

“Trying to work me up my baby?” Percival asked as his hand cupped Newt’s ass and pulled him upward more. Giving him room to reach and rub his thumb over Newt’s spit-soaked hole. The faun arched his back at once, thighs spread as he sat on Percival’s stomach and rested his hands on Percival’s shoulders as he gasped out. 

Percival rubbed lazy circles over the wet rim, spread spit and slick around before he began to work a finger into his faun. Newt was always tight. They used toys sometimes to keep Newt worked open but it never took more than an hour for his body to go back nice and snug. Plus it was cruel to let Newt wear toys around the house. The scent of his lust teasing the children far too much. No, their sex games remained within their room. 

Percival reached up with his free hand, feeling Newt’s faun tail raised high as it could in a signal of his sexual excitement. He couldn’t help but play with it, teasing the fluffy hair as his other hand worked two fingers into that slicked cunt easily. Newt was already riding them, pushing back on them as his hips swayed.

“So greedy for more, eager for daddy?” He questioned lazily to watch Newt shiver and swallow, nodding his head and looking down at Percival. Such a wide and endless adoration there, a raw love that Percival had never had directed at him before. He rewarded his boy with a third finger and slowly stretched them open inside him. Newt was dripping wet, the sound of his fingers working into that asshole wet and sloppy as Newt sighed sweetly and rocked into each motion. 

“Do you need more darling? Is this enough to satisfy you?” 

Newt shook his head, lip wobbling now, tears pooling in his eyes as he looked down at Percival pleadingly. The little crybaby, his tears always making Percival’s cock throb. He wasn’t used to tears outside work. None of his children cried beyond their infant years. But Newt, Newt always teared up when he was overwhelmed, clinging and wanting to be held close. It would have been a weakness in a hellhound but Percival didn’t see an issue with his faun child being soft. 

Newt was all that much better to push into, being so soft.

Percival took his fingers out and eased Newt down again, the faun scrambling to go. Newt reaching back without any shame to take hold of Percival’s cock and guide it to his little pink asshole. Percival smears the head in slick first, not wanting to tear Newt. He’s never torn the little faun and he’s rather proud of that. For all power he has, he’s no interest in hurting outside of work. 

The tip of his cock kisses at Newt’s hole sloppily, wet sounds as he nudged at it and lets it slide off. When Newt tried to reach and push it in, he catches his little wrist and holds it prisoner, as he teases the faun a bit more. Watching Newt shiver over him, tears running down his cheek and his nipples all puffy and pink. Little boy clit dripping as his hips rolled lewdly. 

“Please daddy, please, fuck me, I’ll be so good,” Newt said mindlessly. Making promises to be a good child that he never kept. Always such a wild little troublemaker.

“Little liar,” Percival scolded lovingly as he pushed with a bit more weight, lifting off the bed and taking Newt’s waist to ease him down. The head went after a moment, the little hole opening up wide to begin taking it. 

“Maybe just the tip?” Percival muses and Newt gives him such a displeased look that Percival laughs out loud, fangs gleaming as he cups Newt’s ass and eases him down slowly. The faun would slam himself if he could and end up walking funny for days afterwards. Newt had no hesitation about hurting himself during sex and Percival never cared for that. There was a large size difference between them and Percival’s human form had a large cock. It was far too big for rough play right from the get-go. No matter how Newt begged. 

Perhaps if Percival was younger and more lust driven he would give in. But as a seasoned father and hunter, he knew how to be patient, tipping Newt forward so he could suck at those pert tits. Gently nipping at the buds and then suckling them until Newt moaned out high. The entire time he distracted the greedy faun, Percival eased into him slowly. Careful inch by inch, in no rush at all. Even though the faun felt so bloody fabulous around his cock. All wet silky heat. Percival would never get tired of it, of how good it felt to fuck Newt. No bitch hellhound in her highest of heats had ever felt this fine. Percival felt a base pleasure in breeding, in procreating as he always had. But Newt was something else entirely. It was all about pleasure, feeling good. 

Darling little faun. 

Percival sits Newt down for a long bit, letting his body stretch and get used to the full feeling. He can see a little bulge in Newt’s belly when he leans back. A telltale sign of the cock he’s currently sitting on. Newt’s so small and delicate in comparison to Percival and his cock was thick and long. As wide as Newt’s wrist and nearly the length of his forearm. 

Percival would worry he was hurting the faun more if not for that look Newt wore. When he was seated as he was with the full length buried inside him. His gaze a bit lost, eyes so lustful and mouth parted a bit. Little puffing breathes as he quivered and Percival could feel that hole clenching on his cock, Newt actively feeling it in him.

Eager thing. 

“You like that?” he asks just to see Newt nod, all dazed and lost in it, chewing his lip and licking at them. His little cocklet throbbing and dripping long white lines of milky seed. 

Percival laid back against the bed, resting his hands lazily on Newt’s waist as he manhandled him into the position he wanted his boy in.

“Fuck yourself then, ride daddy’s cock,” he commanded and Newt whined out in answer, reaching to rest his hands on Percival’s stomach and lift himself up a bit. He doesn’t get a few inches before he slams back down. He never does. Too greedy for the stretch of it. Newt keeps fucking himself, lifting up a bit and then ramming back down with a beautiful punched out sound. A gasping noise as he tipped his head back and kept fucking himself downward. Percival’s hand reaches to find Newt’s tail, playing with it idly and feeling it twitch as Newt fucks himself. 

Newt manages for a time, sweat beginning to form on his milky skin as he moves, thighs clench as he rides Percival. But eventually, it’s not enough for Newt. His moans take on a displeased edge. He thrusts himself down harder and faster but it’s not doing it for the faun. 

“Daddy,” Newt sobs out, trembling and trying so hard to get off. 

“What do you need darling,” Percival asks, reaching up to cup Newt’s face. The faun rubs his cheek into the touch at once, clinging to the affection desperately. 

“Please fuck me,” Newt requests, turning those wide watery eyes on Percival with such a clear plea in them. It’s not like when he’s at work, nothing like humans begging. No, it’s something unique only to Newt. Since Credence had first brought him home, the little faun looking up at Percival all wide pretty eyes.

How could he ever resist? 

Percival sits up easily, his body always kept in excellent shape, he was a hunter after all, even if an older one. He holds onto Newt with one hand and the faun clings to him, thighs tight on Percival’s waist so his cock can’t slip free. 

It’s easy to settle Newt down on the bed on his back, all sweat shining and gorgeous as he peers up at Percival so adoringly.

“My hungry darling,” Percival mutters as he takes Newt’s waist and eases back. He can feel that hot hole cling to him, unhappy to lose any part of him. Newt mewls unhappily, fingers pulling at Percival’s wrists as he retreats until the head is teasing Newt’s hole. It’s opened up now, red and puffy and drooling slick. Percival licks his lips absently and wants to eat him out but Newt will be all fuming with him after if he doesn’t let the faun have what he wants. 

Which is a good fucking. 

So Percival shoves into him, not roughly, but one quick jab that makes Newt howl out, arching his back off the bed with his head thrown back. 

Holding Newt by the middle Percival sits up a bit higher, lifting Newt off the bed without a struggle. The faun loves it when he displays his strength so casually. Hold Newt up as he lazily begins to thrust up into him properly. Not little short rabbit thrusts like Newt was doing. But long proper strokes to really work Newt’s insides up. It’s working right away, the faun gasping out and twitching in Percival’s grasp as he fucks him. 

“Daddy,” Newt yelps out and Percival can feel him twitching around his cock. 

He speeds up a bit, changes his grip on the tiny waist as he pounds into him a bit, a nice rough rhythm. Wet slapping of skin on fur and the soaked hole being filled while Newt moaned out even louder. Gasping for breath as his calloused but tiny hands gripped at Percival’s wrists, trying to ground himself. 

“Are you going to come for daddy? Clench all nice and tight?” he asked to push the faun over and Newt went with a gasp. His body quivering and tensing up as Percival fucked him through it. Pumping a steady speed with just enough of a controlling hold to make the faun really whimper. 

“Show me how much you love it,” he instructed, talking Newt through it as he came, little spurts of his cocklet and gushes of slick as he shivered. 

Percival dropped Newt back to the bed. A little fall as his thick cock came free with a wet sound. Newt flopping into the lush bedding, panting for breath and trembling daintily. 

“My darling faun,” Percival said warmly as he leaned down and kissed Newt, opening up his slack mouth. A mix between a kiss and more scent marking. Without breaking the kiss Percival lined them back up and pushed the tip of his cock back into the faun. 

Newt whined in reaction, the sound muffled as he reached up and wrapped his thin arms around Percival’s neck. He fucked him leisurely, enjoying the feeling of it as he pumped in and out of that wet body. Newt’s thighs opened up wide and willing as Percival licked his mouth clean. When he broke the kiss, Newt’s lips were swollen and red, spit shining and gorgeous. He dropped a few kisses on them before moving to his chin and jawline, licking and sucking, taking the time to work some love bits onto that pale throat. Wanting to show his children the sort of control he had. Able to mark Newt’s neck without ever giving in to that urge to bite down. Fucking Newt through it all, feeling the little faun getting eager again. Newt could come six or seven times a night easily. So young and hungry for it. 

“Da-daddy,” his little darling gasps out, broken sounds in time with each push of his hips. 

“Already worked up again?” Percival asks him, nipping at his soft velvet ear as Newt whines out. Percival is beginning to work up a sweat but Newt is already soaked, dripping sweat with damp hair and flushed red skin. The way he's panting for breath makes something primal in Percival react, as if he hunted down this prey and now he’s enjoying him. 

Percival shifts them once more, sitting up and back against the headboard. Pulling Newt into his lap and fucking up into him. The little faun leans heavily against Percival’s chest as first, slowly leaning back to grasp Percival’s thigh and hold his weight as Percival fucks him. Newt knows Percival likes to see him on display during sex. 

His cock is throbbing now, pulsing, and Percival knows he won’t last very long once he starts pounding him again. 

“What do you want?” He asks because Newt might get all lust-crazed but he’s not foolish about knotting. Percival’s knot lasts at least an hour and Newt is always aching near the end of them. An utter mess and tender for a week afterwards. 

“Please, knot me, daddy,” the faun croons and Percival groans out. It's not something they get to do too often. Their bodies were built too differently and Newt’s won't be able to take a fat knot every day without serious pain. Percival won’t even want to knot him so often, his drive nowhere that high. It suits them like this, a now and again sort of special time. 

Lifting and dropping Newt is its own pleasure. His weight so light it makes Percival harder, gets him off with how much power he has over the faun. It’s far too easy to cup Newt’s neck and wrap his hand around his throat. Not enough to hurt, or even bruise him. Just enough for them both to feel it. Newt’s fingers curling around his wrist and holding on as Percival uses his other hand to thurst Newt down into every lunge of his cock. He can see it when he makes Newt lean back more, a little bump in his belly when Percival slams home. 

“Good boy, my little darling, show daddy how much you need it.”

Newt's little gasp is perfect and he starts yanking himself down each time Percival drags him up. He tries to fight Perival’s hand, lifting him and Percival snarls out. His cock pulses now as his balls tighten up. He lets go of Newt’s neck, shifting to take his middle in both hands. But the one on Newt isn’t tight and the faun slips from it easily. 

Percival blinks when Newt pulls away, coming free off his cock and scrambling down the bed. The little faun nearly makes it before Percival’s instincts kick in. He lunges at once, reaching out and capturing an ankle. The little hoof twitching as Newt scrambles to get away, yelping as he yanked back in one smooth motion. 

Percival snarls at him, pinning Newt on his stomach, pushing him down into the bedding and at once lining up and slamming back into his ass. Newt cries out and Percival growls as he fucks the faun good and hard now. Not enough to truly hurt Newt but enough to show him his place and give him a sting. Good hard ramming motions. Wet slaps as Newt yelps out. Percival leans down, head on the blanket as he growls and Newt whines. 

He fucks the tight wet heat and all that matters is claiming it as his own. How dare Newt try and escape, the little brat. Percival snarls into the bed and his fangs sink in, tearing the blanket as he rams into Newt’s plump ass, cock swelling up as Newt begins to cry out louder now. He’s yelping with each thrust and it sounds so fine. The little faun is twitching and jerking as Percival fucks him. 

He’s coming, Percival realizes idly as he’s pounding into that milky ass and feels his knot begin to expand. He'll paint him with his seed, fill him up and make him drip with it for days. 

His. 

“Yes,” Newt sobs out. “Yes daddy, oh, it’s so good, please please,” he begs and Percival growls, pleased with the grovelling. 

He can feel the strain of the coming climax now. His cock not pulling back smoothly as it swells up to tie. He could force it out, could tear Newt up so easily. But the aggression in him fades and Percival pulls Newt back onto his cock instead. Wanting it as deep as possible as Newt gasps out. 

“Please daddy, knot me up, put puppies in my belly,” Newt babbles out. The throbbing in his cock is hard to think past but Percival can feel himself levelling out. The sudden need to claim falling back. 

It’s the only way they can knot. If Newt tries to deny Percival’s dominance of him. They don’t talk about it beforehand, Newt always doing something unexpected, something that will make Percival need to own and mark him in the most base way he can. 

“Gonna breed you up,” he mutters and Newt moans out in answer. 

They both know they can’t but they dirty talk all the same. It’s become more common the last few years. Newt growing to the age when procreating mattered. 

Percival will find a hellhound female to breed up soon and once she gives him the pups he’ll put them on Newt’s chest and make him nurse them. Hellhounds don’t need milk, they need blood, but they’ll drink from Newt anyway. They could go breed Newt to some buck as well but the idea fills Percival with rage. He’d kill the male before he could finish in his faun. 

No. 

He’ll bring home pups and Newt will mother them as he does all creatures. They’ll call him mama and Newt will adore it. 

Percival’s knot pulses in the faun and he groans out at how good it feels. No desperation to finish quickly and no need to make sure Newt doesn’t reach and rip his throat out. Just the steady throbbing and soft whimpering of his little darling. 

There isn’t anything Percival won’t give his faun to keep him happy he thinks. If Newt wants to be a mama then Percival will make him one. Perhaps he’ll encourage Credence to be bred so Newt can enjoy a pregnancy that way. His daughters would all leave the house for their pregnancies by instinct. Credence would stay and Newt could mother him and watch his belly grow.

Newt turns his head on the bed, resting his cheek and looking at Percival. He’s still biting the bedding tightly, ripping it up but he can’t let go. Not until his knot fades down and the instinct to bite dissipates. Still, he can look at his little faun as Newt snuggles in close and nuzzles Percival cheek lovingly with his cute nose. His tiny body all hot and tight as Percival fills him up. He cups Newt’s belly and he can already feel the seed making it bulge. When Percival is done knotting Newt will have a little belly, almost looking pregnant, so swollen with seed. Percival wonders what he could shove up Newt to get such a look. Perhaps another creature's eggs, Percival thinks distantly that some creatures work that way. Females using other beasts as incubators and their males fucking the seed into them. He’s not sure if he could stand that, seeing a beast fuck Newt instead of him. He knows nothing sentient will touch his faun and he doubts even a base creature would. 

A little sigh from Newt comes past his lips, all swollen still, plush and parted a touch. His eyes half-closed as the faun focused on the knot inside him, pumping a steady stream of seed in him. 

There's an intimacy within it, sharing this in this way. Not in danger of some female, filling his faun up in a way he’s not meant to be. Newt was eager and willing to take that, eager for his daddy to use him. 

Such a darling.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you're all doing ok and staying safe out there. Hope this shameless smut makes your day a little easier!


End file.
